Every spring, an island starts ringing inside you — like a thin, sparkling icicle in the sunlight. But summer comes with its heat, trains, and boats, and the ringing subsides. And when spring returns again, you hear that persistent tinkling in the roar of the wind. And in front of your eyes, like a transparent mirage, appears a distant Island. Sometimes it looks like the needle of a giant compass made of magnet; sometimes — like a ship that cleaves the waves; or like a deep-sea fish with a bony mouth. But most often — it’s a cold icicle studded with sharp sunlight glints.